DIE SEELENMASKE

CONSIDERING PERSONA

Exerpted from Jolande Jacobi’s “Man in His Mask,”
Chapter 2 in MASKS OF THE SOUL (Eerdmans, 1976)

One is obliged to play various roles in life
and consequently to wear a mask.

For man is a social being,

involved in the community life
of one’s family, profession, and nation.
If this were not the case a mask would hardly be necessary.

Being a social being
means being involved in community life.

Community involves family, vocation, and the ordering of society.

One’s role in community life is determined by how
one is expected to participate in that community.

To play various roles in life one is obliged to wear a mask, a persona.

Each individual person, while participating in a variety of roles,
puts on a persona consistent with each role.

When one is alone
there is no need of a mask,
but the more one shares one’s existence with others,
the more vital a mask becomes.

UNMASKED

private SELF public

MASKED

In the intimate life of one’s family,
one may perhaps afford to take it off
and run around without it.
The moment a stranger appears, however,
one quickly puts it on again.
It is astonishing how completely
a person’s behavior can change
when he is confronted with people outside the family circle.
Quite suddenly he seems to become someone else.
In mass society, such adaptation is necessary
if one is not to be singled out as an eccentric or even a rebel.

When confronted with people outside the family circle,
a person’s behavior can change.
The person seems to become someone else.

Different circumstances demand different modes
of behavior, dress, and expression.
From this there results a personality split of greater or lesser degree.

The more varied the demands of civilization and culture,
the more varied a man’s masks come to be.
Different social environments
require different ways of behaving.

One is not being a deceitful poseur, devoid of character,
but someone who means to pass
for a well-adjusted, well-brought-up person.
Yet someone who is too ready to adjust himself
to everybody and everything
will either never develop a strong character,
or, if he had one, will lose it.
A degree of adaptation is necessary
as long as it does not manifest itself continuously of its own accord.
But it must not be allowed to degenerate into total mimicry.
There is great danger of assuming the persona mechanically,
without realizing its presence or its way of behaving.

Total mimicry is a way of behaving
that does not recognize the presence of an assumed persona.
Identity is lost to imitation.

If one identifies with certain roles
or imitates other people’s roles,
one becomes blind to the effect this identification has on one
and is powerless to remedy the situation.

The persona is a concept unique to Jung’s psychology.
By “persona” Jung understands a psycho-physical attitude
that mediates between the inner and outer worlds,
a kind of mask we develop
to maintain a relatively consistent front to the outside world,
through which those we meet may relate to us fittingly.
It is the only concept in Jung’s psychology
which embraces psychic as well as physical aspects
including such things as dress.
Given the kaleidoscope of interweaving and constantly shifting
moods, sensations, and modes of expression
with which nature has endowed us,
it becomes essential to wear a mask,
if all human relations are not to lapse into chaos and instability.
The formation of a persona
is then an important part of our education,
for it regulates the relationships between people
and makes harmonious contact possible.
It is implicit in what is meant by a good upbringing.

The word “persona”
derives from the Latin personare, to “sound through.”
The idea comes from Greek theater,
in which the actor’s voice,
with all its individual nuances, modulations, and vibrations
could be heard behind his mask,
the face of which was fixed in a firmly outlined, typical expression
allowing for no display of personal happiness or grief.
This was because
Greek drama was concerned to depict universal human conflicts
rather than the fate of individuals.
It was in order to emphasize
the generalized nature of the feelings being portrayed
and to make them clear that the actors’ faces were masked.
The masks expressed the typical character of the part
and disguised the individual traits of the actor.
The sound of his voice,
issuing from the openings in the mask,
gave it a certain life.
Thus it is from the “sounding through”
of the individual behind his typifying mask
that the word “persona” comes.

The word “persona” comes from
the “sounding through” of the individual
behind his typifying mask.

In Chinese drama as well as Greek,
and wherever the commedia dell’arte still survives as an art form,
what is significant is not the fate of the individual
but the personification of a typical figure
such as the hero, mother, sister, king, priest,
murderer, shepherd, messenger, seer, etc.
The collective reactions and opinions of the crowd
were conveyed by the chorus.

Each character in the drama personified an archetype,
and the drama itself had an archetypal groundplan.
The fate of each player could have befallen every single human being,
could have belonged to any individual.

According to another version,

the word “persona”
derives from the Etruscan god of the underworld,
the masked Persu,

who can be seen on the great fresco at Tarquinia.

In either case, persona is connected with a role.
In the mask, the primitive encountered the impersonal,
the depersonalized, in animal or divine form.
A similar encounter took place
in drama between the actor and the spectator,
and in the Greek mystery cults
between hierophant and candidate for initiation.
Hence in ancient Greece masks were magical instruments
through which man could relate to the divine in its uniqueness
and the human collective with all its terrors,
to experience a transcendental oneness with those powers.
The mask was the exteriorization in concrete form
of the universally human archetypal background of the soul,
and symbolized the unification of the individual ego
with the hidden ancestors dwelling within him.
They bestow on the wearer of the mask
a higher kind of being with greatly increased power and freedom.
For him who wears the mask all taboos are abolished.
He belongs to a world of another order and is, in this sense, free.

One exceptional situation, which acts as a moral safety valve,
a sort of legalized anarchy, has survived till the present day
in the form of the carnival.

At carnival time in Basel
one can observe all the medieval demons of the Swiss
and, in Cologne,
what seems the whole collective psychic background of the Rhineland.
The forerunners of the carnival
are to be found in the masked cult of Dionysus,
the world of the satyrs and the orgies of antiquity.
It seems as though some deep needs of the soul
had found expression and satisfaction in such rites and cults
and still do today.
For the contemporary parallels serve the same purpose,
allowing one “to be somebody else for once,”
if possible
somebody rather primitive corresponding to the world of the instincts.

The wearing of masks
has been from time immemorial
a magical practice,
and it has exactly the same effect on us today
as it had on primitives,
namely, release from fear.

The conscious ego disappears
behind the contents of the collective unconscious
and is thereby absolved from all responsibility.
As long as man had not developed
a clearly defined conscious personality,
as is the case among the primitive cultures and races
who still live close to nature,
he was driven by fear of solitude and isolation
to identify himself as closely as possible with the collective.
He found himself forced to put on a typical mask
fashioned in accord with traditional patterns.
Whether the masks depicted
grimacing demons, wild animals, or terrifying human faces,
they always conveyed something of the archetypal and numinous
in the suprapersonal strength and power they radiated.

Being so rigid and death-like,
masks linked the living ego with the world of the dead
and through it with the now-divine ancestors.
The body, forever dead, and the spirit, eternally living
– the ego and the ancestors –
were fused by the mask into a single whole, so that
the wearer became transformed
and the gulf between the living and the dead was bridged.
The collective background moved into the foreground,
bestowing on those who identified with the archetypal level
both freedom and security.

The anonymity of the individual
lasted approximately until the Renaissance.
Although Christianity had granted men an individual soul,
it was only gradually that he discarded
his longing to be united with the souls of his ancestors.
As the cult of the mask slowly died away,
leaving only fragments behind,
man became prouder to be, not just a type, but an individual.
The development reached its peak
during the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century,
and has been declining at an ever-increasing rate since then.
The natural and technical sciences,
the mechanization of life and work,
the growth of population
with its concomitant urbanization and militarization
are some factors threatening man’s new-found individuality.
Once again he is, like the primitive, full of fears,
shirking every danger, risk, and decision.
His desire to be like everyone else
and suppress his individuality behind a mask
has become more general, more pressing, and indeed more conscious.
“The [State] is responsible for everything,”
is what collective man says with a shrug of the shoulders.
A tendency on the one hand to regress to a primitive state and,
on the other hand, to stagnate intellectually
results in an often unbearable tension,
which makes man reach once more for his mask, his persona,
until today masks have become universal.

With the advance of civilization,
the mask,
originally connected with the gods and animated by them,
has become through constant use an everyday necessity.

Because man put it on before any encounter with others
it became a part of himself.
Worn this way,
the mask no longer symbolizes
psychic and spiritual communion with ancestors,
or those inner powers in the depths of the soul
which give a man courage
to face the dangers that surround him in his unstable life,
but is turned instead outwards for the sake of his social environment
and shaped in conformity to its tastes and requirements.
In other words it has become the persona.
Every age and every stage of cultural development,
every nation and group develops its own persona:
the romantic,
the aesthete,
the libertine,
the gentleman,
the tyrant,
the melancholic,
the rigidly formal,
the man who is always smiling or always polite.

Since the basic purpose of the persona
is to protect an ego that is still weak and underdeveloped,
it can be regarded with some justice
as a product of fear of the environment.
Just as fear of God or the gods impelled man
to offer sacrifices and develop mystery cults
in which he dared not appear unveiled before the deity,
so fear of his fellow men, of the Thou,
forced him to develop a persona, a mask
to beautify his outer appearance
and, if possible, make him popular.
The weaker a man’s ego and the less sure he is of his own worth,
the more he craves the acceptance
that a pleasant and positive persona can bring him.

What is a weak ego?
One which, lacking its own experiential convictions,
is at the mercy of external influences.

With no individual standpoint
it compensates for irresolution by seeking to present a solid outer front.

It would, however, be mistaken to conclude from what has been said
that a strong ego, free from haunting fears, has no need of a persona.

To the extent that everyone
is part of an organized world and member of a social group,
he has to have a persona.
The development of the persona
is, in fact, a universal, human, archetypal process,
which forms the growth of the soul
and is essential to the attainment of maturity.

The persona, being an empty shell, needs no brains.
It is, nevertheless, a highly important shell.
A certain rigidity and uniformity distinguish it fundamentally
from the natural human face with its mobility and animation,
which it aims to render unrecognizable and invisible.

The living, natural face
with its individual expression
&
the mask of the persona
complement each other, need each other,
and
should be related
in a dynamic polarity of mutual support.

That may sound surprising, but
as long as the persona develops naturally,
remains flexible,
and is sufficiently differentiated
for the individual to put on and take off at will,
it is helpful.
One has to distinguish between
a persona which is stiff and formal,
proof against all emotion, a sort of corset for the face and behavior,
and one which is under full conscious control, for use when needed.
We must learn to recognize the difference between
a persona developed and worn naturally
and one which is unnatural, studied, and mechanical,
either because it was chosen wrongly from the start
and has never developed properly,
or because, in the course of time, it has become one-sided, detached from the whole,
and completely predictable.

A well-fitting persona results from
the harmonious interaction of three factors:
(1) the physical and psychological constitution;
(2) the ego-ideal:
what one would like to be and the impression one would like to give;
(3) the collective ideal of the period
according to which one wishes to be seen and accepted in one or another form.

If only factors (1) and (2) – ego-ideal and constitution –
are included in the make-up of the persona,
the result is a failure to adapt to reality and to the environment.
The individual then lives in a fantasy world,
becoming a rebel or an eccentric.

If only factors (1) and (3) are present – constitutional adjustment
and the environment’s view of an individual –
the neglect of one’s own individual needs will lead in time to neurosis
and the birth, from this over-adjustment, of the mass man.
The characteristics of such a persona are
superficiality, boringness, stiffness, and mediocrity.
One has the impression of having encountered a walking cliché.

Finally, the conjunction of factors (2) and (3)
– ego-ideal and mass ideal –
leads to neglect of natural limitations and potentialities
and in turn to neuroses and often psychosomatic disturbances.
The fat man wants to be thin; the small supple;
the docile milksop longs to be regarded as a tough fighter.

If factor (2) alone applies,
there is no real persona, as the individual is completely self-centered.
If only factor (3) is present
the person is fully merged into the collective
and devoid of any combined note of his own.
Only when all three factors are combined together in the persona
is it “in order.”
This means that in regard to constitutional factors,
individual as well as collective dispositions
are necessary for the persona, but none should be prominent.

Collective consciousness, represented by the so-called “super-ego,”
the collective commands and prohibitions of the parents
that one has absorbed as a child,
naturally helps to form the persona attitude.
Any deviation from this norm
can lead to strong guilt feelings and chronic anxiety,
for the persona has little freedom of conscious choice.
The persona is usually the result of a “becoming,”
of a more or less conscious process of development,
except when there is a neurotic and deliberate desire to act a part,
an insecurity that seeks refuge behind a conscious mask.

In relatively normal cases
the persona develops from the age of puberty, in conjunction with the ego.
If for some reason this does not occur,
one becomes a weakling, a prey to every influence,
perhaps until the day of death.
If one is always trying consciously to disguise himself,
and, instead of allowing the persona to grow naturally,
selects and imposes on himself
a persona that is exceptionally forceful and rigid,
he will make a disagreeable artificial effect on others.
People who do this are also rude and inconsiderate.

A person’s awareness of himself
depends in many cases on how far the ideals of his youth have been realized,
and this in turn is related
to how appropriate they were to him in the first place.
One identified with his persona can allow all the disturbing elements
that would spoil it be manifested [elsewhere]
without being aware of it himself.
A one-sided image of perfection cannot be maintained indefinitely.
What lies hidden behind it must one day sound through,
and the collapse of a too rigid persona is not without it dangers.
Like the bursting of a dam,
the repressed fantasies it concealed may flood consciousness
and lead to psychosis or near psychosis.

Many people pass through life as though on the stage,
convinced that nobody notices they are acting a part.
In their enjoyment of themselves in the role,
they deceive both themselves and those around them.
The urge to show off
spurs them on and on, often into repellent behavior,
as can be readily observed in the hysterical personality,
both male and female.
Examples of this
are often to be seen in the famous star or the demagogue.
For the persona is, up to a point, something unreal,
or, like a part in a play, at one remove from reality,
the natural man with his many layers being, as it were, overlaid
by a second, more polished version.

A typical persona is that of unselfishness,
and it always suggests neurosis when it is over-flaunted.
A closer look at the private lives of idealists, moralists,
and would-be saviors of the world
and at the opinions of those who have to live with them
reveals strange things about them.
One often hears how, far from practicing selflessness,
they are not even capable of normal tact and consideration.
Any judge of human nature can see through their duplicity,
though the person concerned may only learn about it
through his own dreams or those of others.

Per Schopenhauer,
three levels constitute the life of man:
(1) what a person is
– his personality, excluding his outward appearance;
(2) what a person has
– the possession of certain attributes;
(3) what a person represent in the eyes of others
– including his rank, title, honors, reputation, and so forth.

The persona is an indispensable part of man and belongs to him.
An impressive persona can provide an excellent means
of displaying the qualities of [the inner person]
and satisfying its longings.

“Loss of face” is the worst fate that can befall [one in certain cultures].
It can lead even to suicide.
For to show the face naked is taboo and must end in catastrophe:
loss of persona has to be expiated by death.
The decisive part played by fear in all this hardly needs emphasizing.
Still, the question can be rightly be posed:
“Why are people so afraid to show themselves as they really are?
Why do they think that perfection is expected of them?”

Why do people suppose that mistakes and failures are not allowed
but deserve to be heavily punished?
Perfectionism is the driving force that makes the fear-ridden man
ever more dependent upon his mask
and leads either to constant self-punishment
or to all kinds of desperate behavior.
For, in fact,
most worry, fear, strain, ill-will, resentment, self-criticism,
are directly related to the opinion of the people in our environment.
All this makes us oblivious to the shortness and relativity of our life.
Reason is blinded by ephemeral success,
which assumes over-riding importance.

It is not easy to distinguish the persona from the man behind it,
because it includes everything to do with him.
His works deeds, behavior, manners, demeanor, statements
– all his actions belong to the persona,
just as much as
his clothes, facial expression, hair style, walk, and gestures.
Fashion in all its aspects is a living expression of the persona
of which, indeed,
everything connected with our outer appearance forms a part.

Perhaps the first persona was the fig-leaf.

It would be wrong
to assume that the persona expresses itself exclusively in clothing.
Our whole upbringing
is directed towards developing a pleasant persona.
We learn how to behave properly,
eat nicely, greet people courteously, and sit up straight,
recognize and respond appropriately to certain special occasions
such a weddings or funerals,
all in conformity to prevailing customs.
Our essential character is virtually born with us,
so that different children of the same parents often vary considerably.
A character can, of course, be vitiated,
as when a child is intimidated into lying,
or mollycoddled into constant terror
of catching cold, failing to please, and the like.

Character is however, difficult to correct,
since it has roots in the inborn disposition.
The product of education is rather the persona,
which can and should be formed, fostered, and adjusted
through example, admonition, guidance, and instruction.
But if it is a forced, hot-house growth,
the individual potentialities will be cramped and fail to blossom.
During the development of the ego in early childhood,
negative characteristics,
shadow attributes disturbing to the conscious life,
are already being pushed into the unconscious,
and the positive traits
hindered in their development and differentiation
by a too one-sided, inflexible, and dominating persona.
But in all cases the persona, as a visible, perceptible part of the ego,
has an unconscious, compensatory counterpart
under the opposite sign
in the form of the shadow and the contrasexual component of the soul,
described by Jung in the terms of anima and animus.

One must not only look after one’s own persona
in order to do justice to circumstances that may arise,
but after other people’s too.

To hurt the persona of a fellow being,
the carrier of his ambitions and aspirations, his vulnerable façade,
is a great wrong.

As the mediating function in social relations,
the persona must be able to put other people at ease
and through tact, empathy, and human touch
create a pleasant atmosphere.
So it must fit in well not only with one’s own nature but that of others.
Many find this a hard task,
but the consequences of failure are disagreeable.
Each failure
increasingly deprives the underlying feeling of insecurity in life
of the protection and assurance it craves.

We would like to please, to succeed and feel accepted by others;
and the soul-mask is the means by which we try to achieve this end.
Few are successful
and few take the trouble needed to penetrate to the very core of another’s being.
The person who can bear his failures
without feeding his resentments and feelings of inferiority,
no longer fearing that they will lower him in the eyes of others,
can say with Goethe out of a peaceful heart:

Every life can be lived,
If one does not lose one’s self;
One could lose everything
If only one remained what one is.